


Surprise

by skyofsilvermoonofgold



Category: Aubrey-Maturin Series - Patrick O'Brian, Master and Commander - All Media Types, Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gems (Steven Universe), Alternate Universe - Space, Conflicting Loyalties, F/F, Fusion, Gem Hierarchy, M/M, Other, The British Navy in Space, The Diamonds - Freeform, There's only one pairing but I wasn't sure how to tag it, crossover fic, this is potentially the weirdest thing I've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-08 12:18:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18623164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyofsilvermoonofgold/pseuds/skyofsilvermoonofgold
Summary: Soon after the incident, gems were calling Pearl "the Doctor' in conversations she overheard. Once she looked the word up, she had to agree it was fitting.





	1. 1

Rose Quartz “Lucky” 1AC ran her hands over the control panel of her newly assigned ship, watching the bustle of loading from the spotlessly sanitized bridge. Cruiser 809 was not the newest model, and not quite so powerful nor maneuverable as the more recent makes, but was nonetheless speedy and dependable. Lucky had served on her when she was fresh out of the Kindergarten, she recalled, and the officers then had nicknamed her Surprise. Not strictly orthodox, perhaps; the naming of ships was frowned upon in the Armada, as was the naming of individual gems; but behavior codes tended to break down in deep space.  
The Surprise it was, then.

  
“Rose Quartz!”

  
She turned to see her commander, Morganite, tall and regal behind her.

  
“Morganite, welcome,” she replied hastily, and saluted.

Space on the bridge cleared around her pale form as she made her way towards Lucky, accompanied by two large carnelian guards and her pearl, tailored to her own exact shade of pink.

  
“Congratulations on your victory against the rebels this past mission, and on being assigned your new post so quickly,” she said, and she nodded her thanks. There was no point mentioning that Morganite had undoubtedly had a large hand in getting her this post; she was pointing it out right now.

  
She waved her guards over.  
“In fact, it seemed to many you deserved a reward for your achievements. Carnelian?”

Both of the guards looked over, and she sighed in exasperation.

“You, on the left,” she said, pointing, “Bring her here.”

The carnelian strode to her side, and as she did so Lucky noticed one more gem in Morganite’s entourage. Tagging along behind the carnelian was a second pearl.

  
“Some higher-ups thought it was time you were awarded your own personal pearl,” she said, conspiratorial excitement in her eyes. “Here, Pearl! This is Rose Quartz 1AC; she’s to be your new owner.  
“I know she’s not much,” she said, as though the pearl were in another room altogether, “But after a few promotions you could surely have her traded out.”

  
The pearl raised a single, sardonic eyebrow at that, unabashedly staring Lucky straight in the face. Lucky looked her over: despite Morganite’s bluntness, she had a point. (Point, ha, ha, she thought).The pearl had a spindly, awkward look to her, unlike the graceful dancer’s figure favored by most, and was an unassuming color that might have been intended as a gold but was in reality something between brown and gray, a dull and dusky shade. She was quite plain, with none of the frothy decorations that were so common to the type.

The pearl bowed crisply, and moved to stand by Lucky’s side. Lucky was deeply aware of the bridge officers watching the scene, and, uncharacteristically self-conscious, blurted out, “But what am I to do with her?”

“Oh, whatever you please. She’s a gift! And now, Rose Quartz, I will take my leave of you.” She swept from the room, guards and delicate pink pearl close behind.

Lucky coughed. “Well.”

The pearl stood silent.

“Well,” she said again.

When no answer was forthcoming, she reasoned she would do best to get the ship underway as planned. Striding away, she roared as she went, “Repairs completed? Fuel, gear, all supplies loaded? All personnel aboard? Very well, 3AR, begin the launch sequence! Gravity fluctuators adjusted if you please, Agate!”  
She did her utmost to ignore the pearl following close behind her, and the curious looks she drew from the crew.

 

When the Surprise had cleared orbiting space and Homeworld was rapidly receding in the viewports, she felt a great sense of relief. Everything seemed to make a great deal more sense out in space; planetside, everything was close and crowded and restricted, full of gems waiting for Lucky to step on their metaphorical and literal toes. She was infinitely glad to have been sent into the Armada, rather than a ground fighting or guard unit.

Of course, she now had a difficulty on her hands which she was completely unprepared for. The pearl had followed her silently all day, though at times Lucky got the distinct impression that she was restraining herself from letting slip a scathing sarcastic remark. Perhaps it was just the way her face was angled.

But now that they sat in the private control cabin, the large quartz found she could bear the quiet no longer.

“Er, Pearl.”

The pearl looked up sharply. “Yes, Rose Quartz?”

“I, ah… tell me. What, what think you of music?”

The drab, pointed features assumed a shrewd expression. “It is frowned upon in most circles, I believe.”

Lucky began to regret her choice of subject. The pearl couldn’t tell anyone else about it, not if she ordered her to keep it quiet. But she knew well that loss of respect was the fastest cause of disobedience aboard a ship; word couldn’t get out that the captain was partial to barbarian forms of entertainment. And what if the pearl decided she was a subversive, not fit to obey? Could pearls even do such a thing? You’re being ridiculous, she scolded herself, and plunged ahead.

“I know, I know. But that wasn’t the question. I wish to know your opinion.”

“Really?” Pearl looked intrigued.

“Well, of course. I could hardly just order you about. Damned inconvenient of Morganite to drop you on my doorstep, when she knows full well I’ve no desire to own a pearl.”

 

“I hope not be be an inconvenience, Rose Quartz,” said Pearl; rather coldly, Lucky thought. This was a strange amount of emotion for a pearl– had something gone wrong with her training?

“No, that isn’t it at all! Only, what am I to do with you?”

“Whatever you please. I am at your command, after all. You may use me as an ornament, though I’m told it’s not my strong suit; as an assistant; as target practice, even. It would not be so unusual.” There was a definite tone of bitterness in her voice.

Flustered, Lucky stammered out, “What? I would- I would never! Such a thing - gross abuse of authority - very unpleasant.”

“It is. What, then, do you have in mind for me?”

She stared at Pearl for a second, mind blank. Then: “Have you any skill with a stringed resonator?”


	2. 2

As the Surprise sailed through space, they spoke more and more often, and the cabin echoed with the sounds of the frowned-upon music. Pearl, it turned out, was a competent player, and they often engaged in duets. She knew many of the styles Lucky did, and more that she had never heard of. Not only that, but she was knowledgeable in many fields, notably the natural sciences. Lucky was astonished; she had thought pearls were forbidden from learning anything so advanced, but when she asked, Pearl only told her, “We are.” She supposed that any further explanation might have put Pearl at risk, so she inquired no further.

As they approached the first system they were to search for rebel factions, unsavory rumors began to reach Lucky’s ears; rumors regarding the master, Agate 3AR. It was widely held among the crew that she had a taste for unauthorized fusion: with gems outside her own type, no less. Now this was unfortunate news, if it was true. While pastimes like music might be dismissed as primitive, fusion willingly performed when not strictly necessary was banned, and those who did so were punished and regarded with disgust. Agate was a good, dependable gem who did her duty; it was difficult to believe that she could be some kind of freak. But it wasn’t relevant, anyway, not unless she was caught in the act. Lucky elected to ignore the talk until it proved true or false.

In the midst of their second orbit around Levaria X-5, she brought up the subject with Pearl. They had become closer-- Lucky would call them friends, if it were not out of the question-- and she knew she could discuss it with her without immediate judgement.

“Why would anyone do such a thing?” she asked. “It merits a harsh sentence; gems’ve been shattered for unorthodox fusion.”

“I am afraid I have no real answer,” Pearl said. She stared intently at the holomap of the planet they circled, manipulating the interface with her slender fingers to see smaller details. “I myself have no experience with the act. However, I have been told-- all hearsay, you understand-- that it may result in a deeper understanding of the other one involved, or even a kind of euphoria. And this besides the obvious benefits of combined strength and power.”

“Yes, but with gems of different types? Who knows what sorts of-- of aberrations might pop up? Quite unnatural, if you ask me.”

“With all due respect, Rose Quartz, I believe that Agate 3AR did not ask you.”  
Lucky looked sharply at Pearl, and saw the corner of her mouth twitch upward.

 

On the third orbit, Lucky was beginning to grow restless when she received an alert from the lower deck.

“Yes?” she asked, opening the channel. An amethyst’s frightened face appeared in front of her, and began to speak so rapidly she could barely follow along.

“Rose Quartz, ma’am, it’s 9VK, she’s been injured, a shipwaste container fell on her and broke open and she’s in a bad way, keeps reforming, ma’am, can’t talk straight, we think she might be cracked--” 

“Calm yourself, soldier,” Lucky barked. “I’ll be down directly, and see what’s to be done.”

The channel blinked shut, and she started off hastily, trying to restrain from breaking into a run.

It was worse than she had feared. Amethysts were known for their boundless energy and a tendency for exaggeration, so she had hoped the incident was less important than it had been made out to be. But there lay able crew-gem Amethyst 9VK, groaning with pain and flickering in and out of solid form, surrounded by a gaping crowd. They scattered as Lucky approached, and she knelt beside 9VK, examining her closely. Her gem was beside her knee, and there she saw it-- a crack, shining with narrow bright light. Though she had been in battle many times, the sight still made her a little sick. Cracked gems rarely healed, and such an injury could bring an instant end to one’s career, not to mention health. An unstable gem was a useless gem.

Lucky heard a rustle, and turned her head to see a slight figure crouch down next to her: Pearl. 

“You ought to go,” she urged softly. “This ain’t a fit sight.” She had no idea how her companion might handle such distress.

“Please stand aside, everyone,” was all Pearl said, and Lucky found herself moving away instantly, as if _she_ were the one meant to obey orders. Pearl bent in close, peering at the amethyst, and announced in a detached, professional manner, “Merely a hairline fracture. I can fix it.” 

She produced a small, thin tool and a round container. Upon her unscrewing it, a gummy white substance could be seen inside. Carefully, she scooped up a bit of the gum on the tool’s tip, and, with nimble fingers, began to apply it to the fracture.  
Lucky made to object, but the words died in her throat. The gems crept closer, craning their necks to see what was being done. There were gasps and mutters of horror. 9VK cried out every time her gem was touched, and Lucky periodically had to avert her eyes. A smallish citrine reached out to grasp the amethyst’s hand.

At last, Pearl said, “Finished,” and stood up. 9VK poofed, and did not appear again. 

“She should reform in about ten cycles. Keep her from heavy work until she seems fully recovered, if you please, and consult me if anything appears wrong again.”  
All eyes were on her, and just seconds after she finished speaking, the rest of the crew let out a raucous cheer. Lucky thought about hushing them, but decided against it; she felt like cheering herself, and laid eyes on her companion with a new respect.

“It was nothing,” muttered Pearl, “A simple procedure.” But Lucky noticed that she was smiling. 

Soon after, she heard gems calling Pearl ‘the Doctor’ in conversations she overheard. Once she looked the word up, she had to agree it was fitting.


	3. Chapter 3

  
Confirmation of rebels on X-5 arrived from Homeworld, and they began to bring the ship down planetside. Lucky walked among the crew, booming out orders, and was gratified to see them look at her with respect, and perhaps even a hint of awe. Her exploits on board Vessel 50-PH1E had not earned her the name ‘Lucky’ Rose Quartz for nothing. Pearl was not following her anymore, and had taken to wandering the ship on her own, something that Lucky was grateful for. Damned uncomfortable, having a second shadow. But she did wonder what she did on her own; there were times when she looked for Pearl at her side and was startled not to find her there.

The surface of the planet was rich with organic life. It was everywhere, Lucky noted with some unease, feeling some strange green mat squelch beneath her feet. The entire clearing around them seemed wild, unpredictable, and terribly unclean.  
Pearl showed no such qualms. 

“Stunning,” she marveled, holding a blue piece of fuzz up to the light. “Not one organism, but two, in an intertwining symbiotic relationship! I understand you have a mission my dear,” she said to Lucky, “And I should not dream of interrupting it, but might you let me stay here, to collect some samples and study the ecosystem? It’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance.”

“Certainly. Just stay close to the ship, if you would, and you may study your eco-thingy all you like.”

“I wouldn’t think of straying,” Pearl said graciously.

Lucky and her crew spent many hours scouring the tangle of growth (a _jungle_ , Pearl called it) on foot and by aerial speeder. There was no sign of the rebels sighted there; every cycle proved frustrating.

On cycle six, they were attacked. Out of the loud, buzzing jungle silence came the blast of laserfire, and the rebels at last made their appearance. Two jaspers were poofed before Lucky knew what was happening-- then she drew her destabilizer in a practiced motion and the fight began. 

It was rough going. The rebels knew the jungle better than her squad, and used it to their advantage, evading, attacking, and catching them off guard. Lucky fired at the fleeting flashes of color, the whines and crackling explosions of machinery alien to her surroundings. She missed her mark more often than not. A burly red gem vanished with a glitter when she unleashed a burst in her direction, and she smiled in grim satisfaction.

“Stand down, captain,” came a stern voice from behind.

She whirled around and came face to face with the steaming barrel of a laser cannon.

“I don’t want to take you out,” said the bismuth holding the weapon. _A bismuth fighting? Really?_ Lucky thought. The rebels truly had lost their minds. But here she stood, a custom-made soldier, at the mercy of a construction worker.  
Slowly, she lowered her weapon. 

“Stay still,” the rebel said, and the cannon in her hands began whining at a steadily increasing volume. “I promise this shan’t hurt.”

Before she could find out what exactly wouldn’t hurt, she felt a sharp tug at her curls. With a yank, she stumbled backward onto a speeder, humming at the ready below her. Lucky twisted to get a better view up, and to her infinite astonishment she saw Pearl, hands twisted in her hair, glaring at her attacker.

“Maturin,” said the bismuth, shock in her eyes. 

”Prism.”

“What are you--”

“Not her,” Pearl cut her off, sounding almost savage. “I told you, not her.”

“But don’t you know who she is?”

 

“I know. And I know what I’m doing.”

“But you--”

“Please, Prism,” she said with a edge of desperation, “Let us leave.”

“I-- I couldn’t--”

Before she had a chance to finish, Pearl gunned the accelerator, and the jungle blurred before Lucky’s eyes as they sped away, dodging through the crowded greenery.

An escape, and so out of the blue! It was some time before she could really process the thing. But gradually something occurred to her, a suspicion which bothered her greatly.

“Pearl?” she asked, a little hazily.

“Yes?”

“That rebel back there, that bismuth… she called you Maturin.”

“What of it?” Pearl sounded blanker than usual, recalling the expressionless tone she had taken with Lucky when they had first met.

“She recognized you. And you called her something too-- Prison? Prism? You knew each other.”

“We'll speak of this later.”

“No, damn it, I'll have it out now! What is my pearl doing speaking to people like that? What aren't you telling me? Why do you know so much about science, and medicine, and other planets?”

“Because I don't want to be your pearl! Not yours, nor anyone's!” Pearl cried.

Lucky was shocked by the outburst. Underneath that, she felt a core-deep hurt that she couldn't quite triangulate the source of. As she reeled, the speeder made a sharp turn, and her head jerked to the left. Perhaps that set something right in her head, for it was then that the true blasphemy of the statement registered with her.

“You're with the rebels,” she said dully.

Pearl's silence was confirmation enough.

“You're an informant, aren't you? A spy. No wonder we never found them before the ambush: you were feeding them our plans. And to think-- to think I--” She couldn’t end the sentence.

“Why would you help them, Pearl? The things they do, the things they want: it goes against the Diamonds, against the natural order! T’ain’t right.”

“Not right? Not right?” For the first time, Lucky felt the force of Pearl’s anger bared against her. “Is it right to shatter gems for daring to think for themselves? Is it right for some of us to be the servants, the playthings of others? Is it right for me to belong to Armada fools who know nothing except killing, when I could be so much more?”

“I beg your pardon? I am not a fool, Pearl, and no murderer either! I do my duty, and--”  
She cut off as the speeder jerked and sputtered beneath them.

“What was that?”

“I do not know,” shouted Pearl, now wrestling with the controls. “Something is wrong-- the dials aren’t--”  
The purr of the thrusters died, and Lucky felt a lurch as they began to drop towards the forest floor. From this height the impact would be damaging-- she could certainly survive it, but what of Pearl? Without a second thought, she leapt unsteadily to her feet and wrapped her arms around her, ignoring her yell of surprise. There was no time to look as the ground rushed up to meet them. She threw herself off of the speeder, curling her body around Pearl. Branches snapped as she hurtled past; an odd tingling sensation filled her from nose to toes. Panic, most likely, she thought.

For a sliver of a moment, Lucky felt her shoulder make contact with the ground.

Then: a brilliant glow around her, and she felt her gem flare hot in her chest. The light intensified, and she squeezed her eyes shut against it. Scattered imperatives raced across through her head: _I’ve got to protect Pearl. I need-- must protect--_


	4. Chapter 4

She opened her eyes. A warm, shimmering sense of perfect well-being floated throughout her body. The world looked unusual, deeper and sharper than it had a  
moment ago. She could swear there were a few colors in the jungle canopy that she had never seen before.

“I must make a note of that,” she said aloud, and her voice came out very peculiar. Lazily, she realized that she was lying sprawled on the ground, but felt no real need to do anything about it. Thoughts drifted through her mind: _I should be back at the ship soon… the ambush, I got Rose Quartz away and the rest may be easily explained… a spy; funny I should feel so betrayed, what do I care about a pearl?... distracting me from my goal; Prism will tell them and I shall be finished...what?_

  
She sprang to her feet and nearly fell over. Her feet were unsteady; the forest floor was farther away than she could remember it ever being, though she seemed to be having an internal disagreement about how far away it should be. Steadying herself against a nearby tree– _Arboris janificarum_ – she squeezed her eyes shut, clearing her mind. She looked down at her hands, fingers dug into the bark, and recoiled. No matter how little she cared for her looks– _I always do my best to appear professiona_ l– she knew for a fact that her hands were not, had never been, such a shade of blue-veined gold. More to the point, she had never had more than two of them.

It was imperative that she stay calm. She closed her eyes and counted to ten, then counted again. _I am on planet Levaria X-5. I came here with the Homeworld Armada. I want… I want a few different things. I can figure that out later. My name is… my name is…_

“Who am I?” she asked. There was no response. 

“How did I get here?”

Another torrent of emotion. She remembered the speeder chase, the crash, panic as she plummeted downward– she saw it unfold from two points of view, hands on the controls, pressed against the back seat; reaching out, feeling arms close around her; then the final moment just before impact. 

The answer came to her in a flash. These were not her memories. Or rather, they were all hers, or belonging to the two gems who were her: Lucky and Maturin, who completely unconsciously had, in a moment of desperation, fused. She was a fusion.

This was strangely comforting. Most irregular, of course, not helpful to anyone involved, but this sense of herself as one and as two souls together made her feel much more at ease. She found that she had her balance now, and took a few running steps to try it out. Only two legs, thank the stars, and in excellent working order. 

_I wonder what sort of gem I am?_ There must be some sort of system for working it out. She was clearly no amethyst, no citrine, or other soldier cut. 

“Not a pearl, of quartz,” she grinned as she pulled herself up the side of a craggy boulder overhanging a flow of water. Standing on top, she put her hands (all four) triumphantly on her hips. “Ha, ha! Of quartz! Do you catch it?”  
She threw her head back with laughter, leaned too far forward, overbalanced, and fell into the stream.

 

Lucky came to with a splash and a wrenching feeling deep in her chest. 

“For all love,” said Pearl, “It wasn’t so funny as all that.” 

“Maturin– Pearl– we fused.”

Pearl was sprawled back in the stream, water running over her slim legs; at that, she straightened up. 

“Yes, we did.”

“I had never done that before. I recollect you said–”

“No, it was a new experience. It was– but tell me, what possessed you to grab me like that?”

Lucky had no hesitation in answering. “I thought you would be injured in the fall, and I wished to protect you. It were a split-second reaction.”

Pearl stood and extended a slender hand. After a moment’s hesitation, she took it, and Pearl pulled her to her feet with surprising strength. 

“I owe you an apology for the insult I gave,” she said to Lucky. “I was angry, and it was out of line. Now,” she went on before any interruption could be made, “I think I ought to tell you how I came to join the resistance.”

 

Pearl, Lucky learned, had been manufactured on a colony near Homeworld. She had had no true defects, so could not be destroyed, but was substandard enough in appearance (Lucky protested this, but she said mildly that it was a fact) that no one had wanted her. When the opportunity arose, she had been issued to an irritable, overworked government official who needed a secretary. Unless she was wanted for a task, she was neglected most of the time. Through access to information nets and documents, she had learned a great deal about the workings and structure of Homeworld and its various colonies, as well as gaining some idea of the tensions constantly arising between them. 

Newer and more brash in those days, she had boasted about this knowledge to another pearl, who had luckily been a rebel operative rather than a loyalist. (Although, said Maturin, no pearl ever created could really be called a loyalist.) She had been speedily recruited and escaped from the colony, traveling on a resistance cruiser for several standard orbits. There she learned many useful skills, such as varying forms of combat, machine operation, the medical and natural sciences, and how to make gems divulge their secrets without realizing they had done so. After a few positions in the outer reaches of gem-controlled territory, she had infiltrated a repository of pearls on Homeworld itself. She had spent some time setting up contacts and raising sympathy for the cause before arranging to have herself placed onboard a ship under a prominent captain, who would provide cover for her work.

“You were an up-and-comer,” Pearl told her, “Rising rapidly through the ranks; doubtless you would end up as influential as a quartz could be. The plan was that I would stay with you for quite some time, making myself indispensable, and use you to gain access to information and areas that would otherwise be difficult for us to get our hands on. Of course, I did not plan on coming to enjoy your company so much.”

“What do you mean?”

Pearl coughed. “You are an interesting gem, Rose Quartz. You live by the rules, but you have your own chosen name; you play music, and you turn a blind eye to others’ irregularities so long as they do not harm your ship’s order. And you treated me as your friend. I wonder what you would have been, what you could be, if you were free of Homeworld’s rule.”

Lucky did not have a spy’s sharp wits, but she was no fool. “I’ll not join your rebels.”

Maturin’s face closed down.

“I shan’t report you,” she added hastily, “I never could. But I have a duty, and I believe in it. So we will have to part ways, or find a balance.”

“A balance,” the pearl smiled, “Curious. But it may work after all.” 

Lucky felt a rush of relief that she was unprepared for. She had, now, some idea of what might warrant it, but she was not ready to think about that yet. Something sprang into her mind: “A question, if I may. Why’re you called Maturin? I’ve never heard the word.”

“I picked it up while working to free the native inhabitants of a small moon in the second quadrant,” Maturin said. “In their tongue, it means Healer. The appellation stuck.”

“Healer,” Lucky repeated. “It suits you.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

At last they stepped out of the stream, and began to triangulate the direction in which the ship lay. Lucky was adamant that it wasn’t far; Maturin thought it might be several days’ walk.

At last, they started out in the direction they agreed was most accurate. The trees were dense and crowded close around them, which made Lucky decidedly uncomfortable. It was harder to see what the point of them could be, filling up all the available space with their irregular shapes, obstructing vision, and blocking out the light. When she asked, Maturin went off on a long-winded explanation of _ecological nets_ and _respiration as part of the oxygen cycle_ , which quite went over her head.

The sky darkened gradually. Lucky would have had them continue, but Maturin pointed out that neither of them were equipped with excellent dark-vision, and they decided to stop for the night. It was surprising how loud the jungle was at night– organic life-forms hooted and howled and whined very close by. A soft rain began to fall, and they took shelter beneath a large tree with spreading branches. 

Lucky shifted uneasily, rustling the leaves under her. She was used to resting upright in a sharp-lined cubby or pod when off-duty, and sprawling about on the ground this way felt unnatural. She tapped a finger rapidly against her thigh, staring off into the dark.

“Maturin?” she said at last.

“Hm?”

“I think I should like to climb up this tree. I have never seen the star configurations in this part of the galaxy, and they may be worth a look. What say you?”

“To your climbing the tree?” Maturin’s voice was bemused.

“To you coming up with me, o’course.”

“Ah. I would be glad of it, my dear.”

Lucky’s heart skipped, but Maturin continued blithely on, “However, I do not know that my arms will be capable of reaching all of the branches. You may have to help me up some of the way.”

“Oh, well as to that–”

She ended up carrying Maturin on one shoulder the second half of the way up. It had never occurred to her before how very light pearls were; she barely felt her there, and they made it up to a high branch in no time at all.  
The sky was perfectly clear, a violet so deep it was black for all practical purposes, and filled with sprays of Diamond-like stars. Maturin slid off her shoulder and looked up.

“Very pretty,” she observed.

“Magnificent,” Lucky breathed.

“You take an interest in stars?”

“Yes, I do! It ain't exactly practical, but… just you look at how bright they are! No light interference. I wonder what the local constellations are called.”

“Must they have names?”

“Now you sound like a peridot. Every species has names for stars, even gems– though we pretend just to number ‘em. Our nav systems still chart courses by the stars, did you know?”

“You are a veritable scholar, joy,” Maturin said drily, but she was watching with interest. Not, Lucky noticed with a certain electric snap, watching the stars. Watching her.

“Why do you call me that?” she asked abruptly.  
Maturin looked up. “Hm?”

“Dear. Joy. Those are not my name– not any of my names. What do you mean by it?”  
She waited while the pearl put her chin in her hand, thinking. Her fingers tapped nervously, and she forced them to be still.

At length, Maturin said, “Exactly what I say, I expect.”

“What?”

“I mean what I say.” She coughed. “I have been a spy, perhaps, but I do not tell unnecessary falsehoods. I call you dear because you are dear to me; I call you joy because it brings me joy to be with you; I call you love because– well, that I am sure you have intuited already.”

The dry, scientific manner in which this information was delivered did nothing to beat back the queer feelings that twisted her core material.

“But I don't know what you can mean by that,” Lucky said, a little wildly. “We were friends, I thought. Equals. Love is an up-and-down thing, a, a hierarchy. You love your high superiors, your leaders, because they protect you and give you life. You love your subordinates because they follow your orders and need your help. As with the Diamonds. Two gems who respect one another, who teach each other music and chemistry and bad jokes, who are friends– that can't be love. It don't signify.”  
There was an unusual sadness in Maturin’s large eyes. “Is that what they told you?”

“I don't know what you want,” said Lucky helplessly.

Maturin leaned in, so her angular body was all against Lucky’s side. 

“Just what we already have,” she said, very quiet. “But with something more, something like this, if you would be willing to try.”

She stretched up a little farther, and before Lucky had time to think anything but, I can see her eyelashes in the star-light, Maturin’s lips were pressed against her own.

Sharp heat leaped up in her chest and crackled along her arms. This was very much what she had been told a major systems malfunction would feel like, but at present all she could do was hum deep in her throat and move closer. She was unsure what to do with her arms, or with her face; but then Maturin settled her hands on her shoulders and opened her mouth, and Lucky found that it came very naturally.

At first she heard the familiar rhythm pounding at the base of her neck, steady but fast. As she tilted her head, sliding her hand into Maturin’s hair, she heard– or perhaps felt– something else. It was lighter, more rapid, like a melody line over the bass. She broke away.

“I can hear your heartbeat,” she grinned.

Maturin looked annoyed. “Ridiculous poetics. It's my gem’s molecular rhythm, that is all.”

“Same thing, I thought.”

They met again. Maturin swiped her thumb along Lucky’s collarbone, and she made an involuntary noise. She felt dizzy, lightheaded; her attention narrowed to the single, present moment.

The two heartbeats ran faster and faster, blurring and overlapping until she could no longer distinguish one from the other. There was a glow in the air surrounding them, soft and then brilliant. She squeezed her eyes shut against it– then she realized why it was familiar, and sprang back.

“Whoa!” said Maturin, catching her hand before she fell through the tree canopy. She saw that the gem on her forehead was fading from an intense white light, and she was gratified to see that Maturin was also breathing hard.

“We almost fused again,” Lucky said. 

 

“I do not understand your continual need to state the obvious. But yes–” Maturin softened– “You're right.”

“I– stars, I almost wish we had. What are we to do about this?”  
Maturin wrapped two of her small hands around one of Lucky’s. Her thin, knobbly fingers looked almost graceful, and Lucky squeezed them, feeling a surge of warmth. 

“Go on much as we did before, I expect.”

“Forever? Maturin, I am an Armada captain, and you are a spy for the resistance. This is dangerous.”

“It is. But we are both fighters, in our way. We know the risks. I expect we can hold on to what we have for a while yet. I had not known you to worry so much before, love.”

Lucky thought for a moment. 

“I expect you are right,” she said at last.  
The unknown patterns of stars arced above them, glittering down through the atmosphere and causing the dark sky to shimmer. They were layered upon one another, stretching back and back millions of light-years into space. But here was their light, edging the world around them with soft brightness.   
Maturin sat up and pointed. “What is that? That light, over there.”

“Stars?”

“No, there! On the ground– in the trees.”

Lucky squinted. Her keen soldier’s eyes focused easily, picking up–

“It is the Surprise!” she cried. “They’ve put the floodlights on– there are my amethysts! They must be searching for us.”

“For you, I should think.”

“You saved 9VK’s life, my dear. The Surprises won't have forgotten it, or you.”

“Then perhaps we should return.”

Lucky put her arms around Maturin, watching the night. “Oh! That can wait until morning. We have time.”


End file.
